Rm w/a Vu(101)

Through my periphery, I notice Greyston clasp his hands. “I realize this is an awkward conversation for us to be having, but given everything you’ve told me about your past with Ben, I think it would be best to put it all out there.”

I smirk. “Are you saying there are things you’re not comfortable with sexually?”

Silent for a moment before he laughs, he says, “I suppose there are, but probably not as many as you’d think.”

My mouth falls open, and my eyes widen. I can’t stop the images of Greyston in every sexual situation imaginable from running through my head—it’s not just whips and chains, either. “Like what?” I ask, unable to keep the question from coming out.

“We’ll get to that. But first, I’d like to know where you’re at.”

I pick my jaw up off the floor and shake the filthy slideshow from my head. “So, what? You want to know positions and stuff that I like?”

“For starters.” He shrugs. “But also other things… Like role playing, light bondage, and other taboo things.”

My eyes widen again, this time more than before. “You mean like S and M?”

“Oh, god, no… Of course, I’m not saying I would be opposed to tying you to my bedframe with one of my ties—or you tying me to the bed, for that matter—if that’s something you’re eventually comfortable with. But, you know, stuff like that.”

Knowing he’s not into the darker side of sexual gratification—hey, I might not engage in it, but I’ve read about it—I relax. “Um, I don’t know. I guess I hadn’t really given much thought to it before. It might be fun, I suppose. But not right away, right?”

He places a hand over one of mine, smiling reassuringly. “Of course not. I just thought it might be a good idea to lay it all out on the table so I don’t do something in the heat of the moment that might freak you out.”

I know it shouldn’t be, because Greyston has never judged me for my choices or lack of experience, but having this conversation is a little awkward. I hate bringing Ben up in any capacity around him. Maybe it’s because I’m embarrassed that I could be so blind for so long about what kind of person he was or that he was robbing me of actually enjoying sex for the better part of our relationship. Whatever the reason, this conversation isn’t exactly easy, but I cooperate, because it is important.

“Well, I guess I’m not sure if anything makes me overly nervous. I mean, it’s not like Ben was too concerned with making sex about me.” I pause, suddenly remembering something Ben had been pushing for more recently. I reach for some honeydew and stare at it for a second. “One thing Ben seemed to want to try that I wasn’t so sure about was…um…” I don’t need a mirror to tell me how red my face is; I can feel the flames of hell beneath my skin, reaching all the way to my ears this time.

“Tell me,” he gently urges.

I’m nervous, because what I’m about to confess is quite crass. “Um, anal sex.” My voice is so quiet, even I can barely hear it.

Nodding, Greyston reaches for his glass. “So, you’d like to take that off the table?”

My eyebrows pull together as I watch him take a drink. “You’d like anal on the table?” Greyston chokes and sputters on his water, and I’m horrified when my question actually registers in my brain. “OH, GOD!” I slap my hand to my mouth. “I’m sorry…that’s not what I meant! I just…” I can’t even explain this away. I’m horrified.

Greyston waves his hand and clears his throat. “No need to apologize. It’s my fault. I knew what you meant, but—being a guy—I may have taken it a little too literally.”

Things are awkward between us for a moment—how the hell can they not be? I can’t bring myself to take a breath big enough to fill my lungs, and I’m feeling lightheaded. Greyston turns my chair to face him, and he places his hands along my jaw. “Consider it a non-issue,” he says softly.

I can’t explain it, but just like every time he puts his hands on me, confidence surges through me. I’m not a meek person, by nature, but this—sex—is such a foreign area for me. But Greyston never makes me feel inadequate. Quite the opposite. He makes me feel sexy and beautiful…like I can do anything.

I take a bite of my honeydew. It’s juicier than I’d anticipated, and just as I’m about to lick the drops from my lips, Greyston pulls me to him and kisses me, his tongue sweeping over my lower lip and taking care of the problem for me. Content, I hum as Greyston sits back in his chair, swiping my honeydew from my fingers and eating it.